Drink up the letters
by BenAddict Holmes
Summary: After Harry's eighteenth birthday, all he is left with is a pike of presents and a splitting headache. A bowl of soup seems the best way to calm down his queasy stomach but the soup is not what he expected to be. A birthday gift for Shivani or simply, the Gred to my Forge. Have a happy birthday dearest!


**Author's note: Hello people! This is a rather long one shot but I really hope that you like it** **:)**

**It's a birthday gift for Shivani Thakkar, one of my fellow Potterheads and the Gred to my Forge.**

**Happy Birthday dearest Gred! Love you loads!**

**Disclaimer : Not mine.**

It was the first of August. Last night had been Harry's 18th birthday. The party had been amazing and Grimmauld Place had been flooded with guests. The Weaselys ( Bill and Fleur with their baby girl Victorie, Hermione with her parents (who were thankfully no longer Wendell and Monica Wilkins, Ted Lupin with his grandma, Hagrid, Kingsley, nearly everyone from Harry's class at Hogwarts, Aberforth Dumbledore and even the Dursleys had been there.

Last night had been one of the best of his life. It had been six months since the War and being with all of his friends had definitely helped to put the painful memories away and look forward to a brighter future. He had finally got back together with Ginny much to Hermione and Mrs. Weasely's delight. Ron and Hermione were still going strong and Percy was going to get married to one of his colleagues, a delightful young witch called Audrey Cresswell.

Everyone was finally happy and the party had ended at two in the night when the last of the guests had finally disapparated, leaving him with only Ron,Hermione and Ginny, who were spending the month with him till they finally went back to Hogwarts for their seventh year on the first of September.

Drinking too much firewhiskey had been a really bad idea, he thought as he stumbled out of Sirius' bathroom clutching his head. What he really wanted now was a bowl of hot soup and a bottle of aspirin. Last night's dinner had been great thanks to Kreacher but he had just thrown up and it made him feel extremely queasy.

'Morning Kreacher', he groaned as he reached the kitchen. 'Could you get me some soup and something to cure the headache?'

'Right away, Master Harry' said the elf in his bullfrog voice and scampered away only to return ten minutes later with a bowl of hot soup and a goblet with an electric blue potion.

'This will get rid of the headache in an instant Master and here's the soup that you asked for!' he said.

'Bless you, Kreacher. Thanks a lot' muttered Harry before downing the potion in one gulp. As soon as the cool liquid slithered down his throat, he felt it's coolness seep through him and as promised, his headache vanished.

Wondering why he never bothered to ask Kreacher for it when his scar used to hurt, he dunked his spoon into the bowl of soup and blew on it, before staring at the miniscule amount of hot liquid in the spoon.

Oh.

Alphabet soup.

There were five letters in the spoon.

B-A-L-S-U.

He shook the spoon and the letters rearranged themselves.

A-L-B-U-S

Albus Dumbledore.

The man to whom Harry owed his life. The genius who had been the only one to find out the darkest secret of his nemesis. The man with all the answers. The man who had foreseen the future. The greatest pupil, teacher and finally Headmaster that Hogwarts had ever seen. The only one whom He ever feared.

He shook his head slightly. He had had a lot of grudges against the wise Headmaster when he had been on the search for the horcruxes, believing that Dumbledore had intended him to understand every part of the plan and act accordingly. It had been much much later that he had realised that he had merely been a marionette whose strings had been in the hands of his beloved headmaster.

*slurp*

He dunked the spoon in the soup again.

E-L-B-A-L.

B-E-L-L-A

Bellatrix Lestrange.

Fury flooded him as he thought of the woman who had taken away his godfather, his best friend's brother, Neville's parents, Dobby and who knew how many other pure hearted souls. Well, she had been paid back, with interest. He remembered fondly, the moment when Molly Weasely's curse had hit her squarely in the chest and she had finally collapsed.

*slurp*

This time he looked for the letters, searching into the depths of the bowl till he finally found them.

C-O-L-I-N

Colin Creevey.

The innocent, muggleborn boy, who had worshiped Harry, tiny, even in death, finally laid to rest in the Hogwarts ground with his brother Dennis and other brave souls who had paid for Voldemort's downfall with their own lives.

*slurp*

D-O-B-B-Y

Tears pricked his eyes as he remembered the house elf who had always been there to help him, who had always been grateful towards Harry for setting him free, giving him a Christmas present when he had been working at Hogwarts in the form of a pair of his uncle's old socks, and the elf in turn had tried to save him from Voldemort, brought him through the second task of the triwizard tournament, saved him from the Malfoy Manor...

*slurp*

E-R-N-I-E

Ernie MacMillan.

The robust Hufflepuff prefect who had briefly turned against him in his second year but had later apologised profusely only to turn against him once again when he was chosen as the fourth Triwizard champion but had been a part of the Dumbledore's Army and then fought valiantly in the final battle and had thankfully lived to tell the tale.

*slurp*

F-R-E-D

Fred Weasely.

The tears came again and he did nothing to stop them but instead let them flow freely down his face. The fourth of the Weasely brothers, the ultimate prankster, the only who had given him the Marauders' map and the one who had been like a breath of fresh air in those dark time when they had been blindly searching for horcruxes. It took just one look to see how incomplete George was without him, how empty he was but he was trying hard. The presence of Angelina in his life made it a lot easier.

*slurp*

G-E-O-R-G-E

George Weasely.

He was still running the joke shop the twins had built together. It was a painful truth but it was a truth nevertheless that in the celebrations that had ensued after the war had finally ended, George had unconsciously blended into the background of everyone's mind. Nobody really seemed to realise that his loss had been the greatest. What else would you call losing a whole part of yourself in the blink of an eye? Happiness would come, he thought sadly but it would be a long time before George Weasely would be able to smile once again. On a happier note, he was to be married to Angelina Johnson, a Quidditch teammate and a really good person.

*slurp*

H-E-R-M-I-O-N-E

Hermione Granger.

Many called her the brightest witch of her age and Harry knew without a doubt that it was true but for him she was like a sister, a humble, courteous, brave and insanely clever sister. She was the brain behind the trio and Harry wondered what would he have done without her. If he was certain about anything though, it was that Voldemort would never have been defeated if not for her.

I-G-N-O-T-U-S

Ignotus Peverell. His ancestor. The third brother from the story, thanks to whom he had his wonderful cloak. What a puzzle that had been! The hallows. All the time he had thought about them, he had wanted them so much that he thought that the only way to beat Voldemort was to unite the three hallows. That burning lust he had within him, he had thought the only way to douse it would be to be the conqueror of death. And yet when he had finally been successful in possessing the three, he had discarded them, realising that they were never meant to be the answer to Voldemort's destruction.

*slurp*

J-A-M-E-S

James Potter.

His father, a.k.a Prongs who had been one of the four Marauders, whom Harry had seen only thrice, whose voice had haunted him when the dementors got too near but of course that was before he had been able to produce a patronus which had, as expected taken the form of a stag, the stag that his father used to be, his father who had died to protect him and stood by him when he had walked to his own death...

*slurp*

K-I-N-G-S-L-E-Y

Kingsley Shacklebolt.

The current minister for magic who had been an integral part of the Order, who had been a beacon of light once the war was over, who had, on the radio under the guise of 'Royal' given him the reassurance that he had so desperately craved, who had been protecting the muggle prime minister and the only wizard whom the Dursleys trusted. They had been delighted to meet him last night, although a bit shocked to see him with an earring.

*slurp*

L-I-L-Y

Lily Evans Potter.

The reason why he was still alive, instead of being another dead person the shambled house of the Potters. She had been the one whose sacrifice had brought him back from the dead. She was like Hermione in so many ways. Muggle-Born, extremely intelligent, immensely brave and a very kind hearted person. Sometimes he wished he still had the Resurrection stone, only to talk to her, to feel her presence, her love that he had been without for 17 long years, nut he knew better than to bring her back from a place where she now belonged, where she was at peace.

*slurp*

M-O-O-N-Y

Remus Lupin.

His ex Defense against the Dark Arts teacher had been one reason why he had never let prejudice get to him. The werewolf had been ashamed of who he was and this had led to the almost ruin of many of his relations with the people who genuinely cared about him, one of them being his own wife Nymphadora Tonks. Immense grief had overwhelmed Harry when he had first laid his eyes on their lifeless bodies, hands intertwined, together, even in death. His godson Teddy Lupin was currently with Tonks' mother Andromeda but he was thinking of calling them over to stay at Grimmauld Place. Andromeda had been a Black after all and in would be much better if they could settle down here instead of the tiny cottage they lived in, especially since the house was so much cleaner and brighter now.

*slurp*

N-E-V-I-L-L-E

Neville Longbottom.

He had come a long way from being the chubby guy who had once stood up to them when they had been trying to protect the Philosopher's stone. The awkward bumbling boy who messed up his potions had now become a true Gryffindor, had destroyed Voldemort's last Horcrux and had been brave enough to stand up to the Dark Lord when everyone had presumed Harry to be dead. He felt a rush of gratitude towards the boy, who had been one of his closest friends at school. What Neville did not know was that he could easily have been in Harry's place, the chosen one, since the prophecy could have pointed towards either boy.

Harry had many a times wondered how life would have been if Neville would have been the chosen one but it was difficult. It was bad enough that Neville's parents were insane and did not recognise him. At least his parents had died painlessly. Neville didn't live alone though. His Grandmother, who he had always been terrified of, was now as proud of him as could be and she would tell anyone who would listen that Neville had finally lived up to his name.

*slurp*

O-L-L-I-V-A-N-D-E-R

Garrick Ollivander.

The frail old Wandmaker was now back in his shop in Diagon Alley. Harry starkly remembered the day he had bought his wand. Ollivander's silvery eyes had seemed creepy, even more so when he had confided to Harry that his wand had shared cores with Voldemort's wand. The old man had suffered immensely in the year and half that he had spent ad Voldemort's prisoner till Dobby had finally rescued them all. Harry liked to imagine that he was now back in business, helping curious kids buy their first wands.

*slurp*

P-A-D-F-O-O-T

Sirius Black.

His deceased Godfather, the owner of Grimmauld Place, his father's best friend, a man wrongly imprisoned for twelve long years was the only parental figure he had ever had in his life. In the short two years that he had known Sirius, he had grown to love him like his own father, hoping against hope that one day his name would be cleared and they would be living together and he would finally have the family that he had craved for so long. Those hopes were shattered in a single flash of green light as Sirius' life was snuffed out by his own cousin Bellatrix's curse. It had been three long years since Sirius had died but Harry still missed him terribly, especially when he saw the photo of the four Marauders on the wall of his bedroom.

*slurp*

Q-U-I-R-R-E-L-L

Quirinus Quirrell.

It actually took Harry a while to find someone he knew whose name started with a Q. Then he remembered his shy stuttering ex-teacher who had, under the lure of extreme power, shared a body with none other that Voldemort and tried to kill him. He shook his head sadly. Quirrell had seemed like a perfectly normal person who had fallen into the wrong hands and had paid the price.

R-O-N-A-L-D

Ron Weasely.

His other best friend, now asleep in Regulus' room. While Hermione had kept him on the track when they had been looking for Horcruxes, Ron had been the one to bring him back to reality whenever his mind wandered. Hermione was a great friend but Ron was Ron. Harry wouldn't know what to do without him. Sure they had had their own share of fights but they had always made up. It was like having a best friend, but more. Ron was that one person who knew him better than anyone else, someone who had made him a better person, he was the person who had known him and accepted him before anyone else did and for that he would remain eternally grateful.

*slurp*

S-N-A-P-E

Severus Snape.

He didn't know where to start. Instead he simply bowed his head, joined his hands as if in prayer, closed his eyes and muttered an apology to his late potions master, for having hated him, for having misunderstood him, for not seeing what all the man had to go through just to ensure that Harry would remain safe.

The bravest man he had ever known had ironically belonged to Slytherin and not Gryffindor, the house of the brave. The Slytherin house was notorious for it's hatred against muggle borns but Severus had fallen for a common muggle born, his mother Lily. Wonders never ceased to happen where Snape was concerned it seemed.

Now that he thought of it, he had been wrong to have let himself succumb to the prejudices people had for the house.

He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and dunked the spoon into the bowl. Not many letters were left now and his hangover was almost gone.

*slurp*

T-O-M

Tom Marvolo Riddle.

It had never ceased to astound Harry how on earth the handsome, clever Head Boy had turned out to be none other than the Dark Lord and had grown up to murder Harry's parents and so many others. He had seemed like an ideal student, the teachers' pet, caring, kind and unbelievably intelligent. Straight trees have twisted roots he supposed. If Voldemort's younger self had taught Harry anything, it was to never judge a book by its cover. Appearances could be grossly misleading.

*slurp*

U-M-B-R-I-D-G-E

Dolores Jane Umbrige.

Thoughts of the always-dressed-in-pink, toad like ministry employee filled him with disgust. The scars on the back of his hands were a proof of the woman's cruelty. Thankfully, Harry had no idea where she was but he knew that she wouldn't come back to Hogwarts as their teacher. Professor McGonagall being the headmistress had ensured that.

*slurp*

V-E-R-N-O-N

Vernon Dursley.

Try as he might, he couldn't hate his uncle and his family. Sure, they had treated him worse than one would treat a pet animal but still, he had been the one to put a roof over Harry's head. For seventeen years, he had unknowingly ensured that Voldemort couldn't harm Harry when he was at Privet Drive. Harry had reluctantly invited his only family for his 18th birthday and they had been gracious enough to bring him a gift. He had been pleasantly surprised to see the pair of brass cuff-links that they had gifted him.

*slurp*

W-O-O-D

Oliver Wood.

Harry laughed as he remembered that he had initially thought that Wood was a cane that Professor McGonagall was going to use on him. Instead Wood had been a person, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, who had been positively delighted to discover Harry's seeking skills. It had been Wood's final year when they had finally won the Quidditch cup for Gryffindor. Now, he was a keeper for the team Puddlemere United. Meeting him last night after so many years had been wonderful indeed.

*slurp*

X-E-N-O-P-H-I-L-I-U-S

Xenophilius Lovegood.

Luna's father had been freed from Azkaban the moment the war had ended and was now the editor of Quibbler once again. Harry held no serious grudges against him but his insatiable thirst for knowledge pertaining to the bizarre irritated him no end. Thankfully, the war seemed to have ceased his never ending search for the crumple horned snorkacks and he was now quite mellowed by the Azkaban experience.

*slurp*

Y-A-X-L-E-Y

The late Death Eater was to blame for the several months they had spent freezing in different parts of Britain without food or information. The secret of Grimmauld place had been revealed to him accidentally but Harry had never forgiven him for it. He thanked George Weasely and Lee Jordan mentally for having sent another evil Death Eater to a place where he deserved to be.

*slurp*

Z-A-C-H-A-R-I-A-S

Zacharias Smith.

The blond Hufflepuff had ridiculed Harry for teaching them the disarming charm but henceforth had been an active member of the Dumbledore's army though he had not stayed back to fight the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry couldn't blame him. He knew that it was a tough decision and it wasn't wrong of Zacharias to have wanted to save his own life.

*slurp*

The spoon hit the bottom of the empty bowl with a clank and he was surprised to see that the soup was almost over save for the few letter that remained at the bottom of the bowl and a miniscule quantity of liquid.

R-Y-I-G-N-H-A-N-R-Y

Ginny. Harry.

*slurp*

He smiled at the coincidence and proceeded to dump the now empty bowl in the sink. His hangover was gone. He was still smiling when Ron, Ginny and Hermione walked in through the open door.

'Morning' said Ron sleepily and Ginny merely yawned while Hermione nodded at him and the only thing he could think of was how lucky he was to have his amazing friends, before he joined them at the table.

**A/n : Yes, so that's done. How was it? **

**Like it? Hate it?**

**Let me know!**

**Please Review! Gred, especially you :P**

**Love always**

**Aditi xoxoxo**


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